


Daedric Captivation Extras

by OmniGamer



Series: Daedric Captivation [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Fluff, M/M, OOC characters, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Tentacles, unrealistically huge dong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-19 18:51:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17606963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmniGamer/pseuds/OmniGamer
Summary: Cut-content, extra tidbits (info, pics, etc) for the Daedric Captivation series thing, as well as 'non-canon' stuff (aka not necessarily canon to what I have previously established).In short, all the stuff that doesn't fit elsewhere.Like Captivating, Tags to specific stories are posted in the respective chapter notes, and ratings for individual chapters are in the respective chapter titles.First chapter is a Table of Contents to give a nice summary of what you might find.





	1. Table of Contents

**2\. Seven Days Stuck With You [General]**

_Applicable Tags: Fluff, Hermaeus Mora/Male Dovahkiin_

Trapped in his home, Rowan learns to cope.

 

**3\. Daedric Reproduction and Mating Rituals [General]**

_Applicable Tags: Somewhat informative, essay style, making up facts_

Through many trials, tribulations, and hard hours spent in research, a few facts are brought to light.

 

**4\. How to Tame Your Dragonborn Pt. 1 [Explicit]**

_Applicable Tags: OoC Characters, Orgasm Denial, Bondage and Discipline, Hermaeus Mora/Male Dovahkiin, NSFW image_

The Dragonborn is a proud, powerful man. There is but one who can bring him to his knees. Hermaeus Mora.

 

**5\. How to Tame Your Dragonborn Pt. 2 [Explicit]**

_Applicable Tags: OoC Characters, Tentacles, Paralysis, unrealistically huge dong, Hermaeus Mora/Male Dovahkiin, image_

Lured by the promise of a rare tome, the Dragonborn finds out all might not have been as it seemed.

 

 


	2. Seven Days Stuck With You [General]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trapped in his home, Rowan learns to cope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Applicable Tags: Fluff, Hermaeus Mora/male dovahkiin
> 
> At some point in time this snippet was supposed to be in the main story of 'Frustrating'. Plans changed and it got cut...

Day one proved uneventful, save for the fact Rowan remained trapped in his home with one Lurker, one Seeker, and a Daedra. He had tried the front door, back door, and even the hatch leading to the roof. All were locked with twisting black metal. All impossible to open, despite how much he tried.

Day two was when Rowan finally decided to do something about it. ‘Doing something’ for Rowan, meant confronting the Daedra that had undoubtedly trapped him in the first place.

“Mora!” he shouted to the Daedra sitting perched in a chair just outside of Rowan’s personal library. “I have a few choice words for you…”

Mora didn't even look up from the book he was reading; he just flipped a page and continued on. Rowan stopped, his accusing finger hovering a foot away from the Daedra. He hadn't expected being ignored, dismissed likely, but not ignored. The Daedra's behavior left him stumped and he trudged away slightly annoyed, thumbs looped into his belt. He kicked a nearby wall for good measure, but even the plaster had been reinforced, so all he ended up doing was hurting his foot instead.

Day three came and went with the same result of the day before. But, just to mix things up, he threw a book at the Daedra's head – missing by mere inches. The Daedra looked up, though if he had been startled, Rowan couldn't tell. Mora drew his mouth to a thin line, squinting in Rowan's general direction. After a few moments, the Daedra sighed then turned back to his book.

The Seeker gave him a scathing look as it floated passed to retrieve the abused hardcover to put it back in its ‘proper' place.

By day four, he had given up trying to draw a reaction from Mora and instead managed to teach the strangely friendly Lurker how to play cards. The first round didn't end so well; the Lurker losing quite significantly, and decidedly eating Rowan's offending winning hand. The next round went slightly better, and Rowan successfully managed to keep his winning cards away from the amphibious creature’s gaping maw.

On the fifth day, Rowan suffered his first defeat at cards when the Seeker decided to help out its ‘friend'.

“You know Abby, Cloister isn't going to learn anything if you keep helping… _him_ like that…”

The Seeker chittered at him in response, likely not caring at all as it helped the Lurker beat him several more times.

The Lurker chirped loudly at each successive win, and every time Rowan swore he caught Mora glance at their table of cards.

The sixth day was when Rowan tried the doors again. And, like before, each tightly sealed with oily-black metal that he couldn't even chip through with his pickax. By the end of the day, he gave up the fruitless venture, casting one last accusatory glare at Mora as he returned to his bedroom.

By the dawn of the seventh day, he found himself leaning heavily in the doorway to the second floor alcove of his library, his arms crossed over his chest. “Could you at least _tell_ me why I'm stuck here?”

Again, the Daedra offered no acknowledgment, not even a snarky retort.

Rowan stood up and sighed. _He was so done with this._ He stomped over to the Daedra, closing the short distance between them. The Dragonborn wanted a response, anything at this point. His fingers dug into the front of the Daedra's robe, hoisting Mora up to his eye level. _Let him ignore this…_ he smashed his lips against the Daedra's, watching as Mora's still expression went wide, his crown of eyes finally focusing on his.

A smirk stole across his face as he dropped the bewildered Daedra, wiping the back of his hand across his lips. Rowan left without saying anything.

The next day, he found the Daedra and his minions gone.

He tried the front door. It had been blessfully unlocked.


	3. Daedric Reproduction and Mating Rituals [General]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through many trials, tribulations, and hard hours spent in research, a few facts are brought to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Applicable Tags: Somewhat informative, essay style, making up facts
> 
> Trying to type down how the whole Daedric mating thing for my fic works and it turned into an essay thing of sorts. Figured it might be fun to share.

**1\. Introduction**

Another Daedra can be created either by a single powerful Daedra, as seen often among the Daedric Princes, or as a union between two Daedra. It is the union between Daedra that we are going to explore further.

Unlike most mortal practices that consist of two partners, typically male and female for the purposes of reproduction, Daedra have no gender and may have multiple mates of which to reproduce with. It is to be noted however, that bonding (a process compared to marriage writes of mortals) is limited depending on the class of the Daedra involved.

This report uses the term “mortal” which shall refer to the sentient races of Nirn (namely Men, Mer, and the Beastfolk).

**2\. Marking/Bonding**

2.1 The Daedric Class System 

Similar to mortal class systems, Daedra are ranked within a class system; the main differences being that these classes are created based on power rather than by social status or wealth. While the most obvious classes are between the Daedric Princes and the Lesser Daedra, there are subtler classes within the Lesser Daedra often recognizable in varying levels of intelligence.

2.2 Venom 

For the sake of this report, venom is to refer to the magical signature transferred (generally through injection of some sort) from the Alpha to the Beta. We shall further be using the terms Alpha and Beta regardless of class, referring to the Alpha as the Daedra administering the venom and the Beta receiving the venom.

The venom is unique to the Daedra in question regardless of a forced banishment, of where the Daedra’s body is obliterated occurring between venom transferences. The venom analyzed in both instances (before and after) are exactly the same.

A common method of injection is by enlarged “fangs”, seen often while a Daedra is in a lesser form (their appearance generally bipedal in nature, though these fangs have been witnessed in non-bipedal forms). It is common to see two fangs, but there have been recorded instances of one, two, or even up to fifty of these venom fangs. These fangs, as established by the late Teneya Anaedgaere, are hollow in nature but become concentrated with magic when the Daedra becomes enticed.

This build up can be relieved through calming the Daedra or through fang “milking” similar to how actual venom is extracted from snakes. While not a recommended nor a popular practice, this “milking” is a notable method for obtaining Daedric magics without the use of soul stones as the produced venom is potent enough to appear and to be used as a semi-stable liquid on Nirn provided it is stored carefully.

**Amended note: Once the fang, or fangs, are full, the Daedra is driven to bite (regardless of efforts made to relieve this reported “pressure”) and all attempts made to remove said Daedra without proper preparations can prove fatal to both the biter and the bitten. Additionally, during this “biting period” the Daedra’s jaws (or similar body part) will lock until the fang, or fangs, are once again empty.**

2.3 Bonding Site 

The bonding site is highly susceptible to the venom of another Daedra, and is thought to be a weak point in their “Animus” or “spirit”. A Daedra also seems to be highly sensitive in this location, showing responses akin to arousal when touched (this sensitivity does not seem to occur when a Beta has been bonded to anyone other than the bonding Alpha).

**Amended note: It is considered inappropriate to purposefully touch this location without the consent of the Daedra (regardless of bonding status), though it does seem to be a lesser offence than if one where to touch genitals on a mortal as initially suspected.**

In all studied Daedra, there appears to be only one bonding site per Daedra. This site commonly appears on the left-hand-side regardless of form with only rare instances of it appearing somewhere on the right-hand-side. Daedra seem capable of locating this location through scent alone.

2.4 Marking/Bonding 

Bonding is the preferred term to the process of one Daedra marking another as their mate. The act itself is when the Alpha injects venom into the Beta via the Beta’s bonding site. Once the venom has been introduced to the bonding site, a visible mark (or bond) is produced, sometimes appearing several hours later. This mark can appear as a bruise, a light scar, or in certain instances a decorative pattern. This mark is unique to the Alpha and has been replicated on seperate Betas by the same Alpha. Additionally, it has been seen that this mark can be seen on separate forms or bodies the Beta may take, indicating that the bond marks the Beta’s Animus.

Providing that the Beta is of an equal class to the Alpha, a Beta can become an Alpha and mark their Alpha similarly. There have been instances recorded where a Beta is an Alpha to several other Betas, creating a chain of sorts.

There appears to be certain rules regarding this bonding process:

  * 2.4.1  An Alpha can bond with multiple Betas.
  * 2.4.2  A Beta cannot have multiple Alphas. It has been noted that a bonding site cannot carry two marks. Attempts to do so shows no reaction other than general annoyance on the part of the Beta, should the secondary Alpha survive the initial Alpha’s wrath. This even applies to a secondary Alpha that is of a higher class than the initial Alpha (though the initial Alpha does not tend to survive the altercation should they challenge the secondary Alpha).
  * 2.4.2  A Daedra of a lower class cannot leave a mark, or bond, on a Daedra of a higher class. This is discussed to be in part due to the lesser Daedra’s venom being absorbed by the higher level Daedra.



**Amended note: While mortals are considered lesser beings by Daedra, an Alpha cannot leave a mark on a mortal regardless of methods use. It does seem that a bonding site must be present for a bond to form.**

After some time after bonding, it is common for one or even all parties involved in the bonding to begin a period called nesting. Nesting will be covered more fully in Section 3.2.

A bonding does not seem to be permanent, and must be renewed between an Alpha and their Beta periodically. If the bond is not renewed, a separate Alpha may claim the Beta. The rate of this fading seems dependant on both the frequency of renewal between the Alpha and Beta as well as general proximity to each other.

**3\. Reproduction**

3.1 Parentage 

While the process itself is generally done with at least one Alpha and their marked Beta, there have been instances of a bond not needing to be present to produce a child (this is especially true with reproduction involving a non-Daedric parent or when a powerful Daedra creates another Daedra).

Though a Daedra can have multiple mates, a child can only be produced by a maximum of two parents. A child formed through such methods will not necessarily be related to either parent biologically (though it does affect the power of the produced offspring). The specific reason for this is unknown, though it had been debated that this has to do with the decision of the child towards their preferred “clan-form”.

3.2 Nesting 

Nesting seems to be somewhat unique to Daedra among higher sentient beings, and a byproduct of a bond being created. When a Daedra enters this period varies between Daedra, even between same classes (there has been thus far no known explanation for this), sometimes happening as soon as the mark appears or happening several centuries later.

Nesting can also occur spontaneously, though the cause of this is unknown.

Common habits among all nesting Daedra include, but are not limited to:

  * 3.2.1  Creating large “nests”, composed of materials created or found by the nesting Daedra.
  * 3.2.2  Stockpiling exotics - often items obtained from Nirn (items found in Daedra nests have been fruits, jewelry, and in one instance a handmade doll).
  * 3.2.3  A sudden over attachment to their bonded pair, such that separation induces high levels of anxiety and stress for the nesting Daedra. This habit is often accompanied by the need to encourage their partner, or partners to reproduce. This attachment does not appear to be limited to Alpha and Beta, but can also occur between Beta and Beta should both Beta's share an Alpha's mark.



**Amended note: During this period, there has been noted that the nesting Daedra will often be making deals in exchange for a firstborn. This has been especially recognized behavior among nesting Daedra whose partner will not agree to have children. The fate of these firstborn children have continued to be unknown.**

A period of nesting can either end by the birth/creation of a child, or will eventually disappear on its own. Having the nesting behavior disappear on its own does, unfortunately, seem to cause increased stress in the nesting Daedra often causing exaggerated symptoms before it fully disappears.

3.3 Insemination, Pregnancy, and Birthing - between Daedra 

For a child to be created between two Daedra, one member of the pair must either be nesting or possess a matching bond with the other party. While it is not necessary, It is seen as common practice to have both conditions met before going through this process. (this is suspected to largely be in part due to the assurances that the bond provides to the birthing parent).

To create the seed necessary for reproduction, both parties must want to have the child as the magic necessary to create a seed does not manifest outside of this want.

The nesting or marked Daedra becomes the birthing parent in the pair, carrying the offspring through gestation after the impartation of magic from both parents. This process can take from a year to a few decades; however, some Daedra have been known to speed up this process by injecting more of their magic into the child (though this can become more taxing within the Lesser Daedra groups and is therefore not a common practice).

3.4 Insemination, Pregnancy, and Birthing - with a non-Daedric parent 

While Daedra themselves do not have a designated gender, reproduction with a mortal requires that the mortal parent be female to have a successful birth (this is likely due to the demi-child being consumed by the Daedric birthing parent during the pregnancy phase, should the mortal parent be male). Due to the Daedra parent not carrying the child through gestation, it is not a requirement of the Daedra to be nesting. The Daedra, however, does need to be interested in having a child to impart a portion of their magic to the non-daedric partner.

Once the portion of magic has been passed on the pregnancy begins. This period can last from a few weeks to a few months.

The birthing process while harmless to other Daedra has been fatal to all mortal parents, and is thus not encouraged.


	4. How to Tame Your Dragonborn Pt. 1 [Explicit]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn is a proud, powerful man. There is but one who can bring him to his knees. Hermaeus Mora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Applicable Tags: OoC Characters, Orgasm Denial, Bondage and Discipline, Hermaeus Mora/Male Dovahkiin, NSFW image.
> 
> Fun story, The Kraken's Revenge got written then after a beer or two and discussing things with some friends and the 'How to Tame Your Dragonborn' series got born. There is gonna eventually be ten parts to this mess of very out of character moments.
> 
> Brought to you by an outsider's perspective of Mora and Rowan's relationships. Essentially written by Mora's fanclub/followers sometime after Rowan gets accidentally discovered in a rather compromising position (see Captivating: The Kraken's Revenge).
> 
> All posted images courtesy of Skitamine. Check out this amazing artist and friend on her tumblr: http://skitamine.tumblr.com

 

  


The Dragonborn walks with powerful strides. He is a god among men. Tight muscles ripple with every stride, his uncovered, remaining eye a piercing, blue orb - the other long since sacrificed. The empty socket is hidden by a leather eyepatch.

There is no wonder how this miracle of man had managed to catch the eye of a Daedric Prince.

He stops, large back pressing against an abandoned row of books. He is hard. Painfully so. His horse-like cock is thick and engorged. It has been pressing against the inseam of his trousers for a while now, and he prays that no one has noticed.

“Chaaaampion…” comes a dark, seductive whisper. It’s his master, his lord, and dare he even think, lover. Thick, inky tendrils emerge from the shadows. They lick up his arms, his legs. A few touch him teasingly, and he bites his lip in shame.

_He is desperate for more._

“Did you enjoy my present?”

The present in question curls inside him, pressing once more against his prostate - as it has been for the entire afternoon. His breath hitches and his eye squeezes shut. Lord Hermaeus Mora is teasing him. There is nothing he can hide from him. He knows everything. The Dragonborn nods regardless.

“Gooood…”

There is something suddenly slipping between his legs, reaching out to the base of his trapped length. It snakes around it. Squeezing it. Choking it. A few extra tendrils tug his pants down and his cock springs free, allowing him to see the writhing black webbing of his master wrapped around him.

He shudders. “Please…” the Dragonborn whispers, ashamed of how he can be brought so low and so easily.

Lord Hermaeus Mora chuckles. “‘Please’ what, Champion?”

The Dragonborn can feel his face heat further, and he swallows hard. “I need you…”

“As you should.” He’s rewarded with a tight squeeze around his cock and the mass inside of him sending fire sparking straight up to his brain. His body spasms and his legs go weak.

Tendrils shoot out from the rows of books to catch him. “But, I think you may have enjoyed your punishment a bit too much…”

Before he knows it, shackles are locked around his wrists. He instinctively tests the chains, but they hold fast. He is trapped. “My- My Lord?” the Dragonborn can’t help stuttering.

His master’s response is a shock that temporarily whites the Dragonborn’s mind in pleasure. It fades quickly, but his cock remembers.

If it was possible, his member is even harder, its head a vibrant red as its tip drools white over his master’s shimmering black hold.

A few seconds later, he’s shocked again, but again, his release is denied. A cold realization falls on him. “Master?”

“I’ve… upgraded… your… punishment…” Lord Hermaeus Mora’s voice is more distant now. “I’ll return… at my leisure… Hopefully, you won’t… have lost your mind by then…”

He feels his master’s presence depart, his only reminder is the periodic spark that has his toes curling and his fingers clenching.

It is going to be a long next few hours...


	5. How to Tame Your Dragonborn Pt. 2 [Explicit]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lured by the promise of a rare tome, the Dragonborn finds out all might not have been as it seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Applicable Tags: OoC Characters, Tentacles, Paralysis, unrealistically huge dong, Hermaeus Mora/Male Dovahkiin, Image
> 
> All posted images courtesy of Skitamine. Check out this amazing artist and friend on her tumblr: http://skitamine.tumblr.com

Water laps up around his chin and his silky, chestnut hair is dark and plastered to his handsomely sculpted face. He tries to stand again, only to be foiled by the layer of boards lying above him. The Dragonborn swears silently under his breath.

For all of his vast strength, he remains powerless against the black water.

Taking a deep breath, he swallows his fear. _For Master!_ the Dragonborn reminds himself, his mind diving straight for the object of his worship and the reason he finds himself in this situation.

He is to retrieve an ancient text, brought in by sea. Its owner has already stated it wasn’t for sale, though Lord Hermaeus Mora isn’t one to be denied.

So the Daedric Prince sends his champion. His warrior, and his little thief. Lord Hermaeus Mora sends the Dragonborn to steal the priceless tomb of knowledge from a trading vessel. It conveniently docked longer than the foolish sea captain thought the ship would be.

The Dragonborn stills to the sound of footsteps overhead. From the distinct smell of booze and slurred singing, only a drunk. The perfect cover for any odd sounds he will have to make in the quiet of the moonless night.

He continues moving slowly, the water barely holding back the progress of his taut body. Soon his wading turns to slow paddling, his actual ability to swim pathetic.

Fortunately, he doesn’t have to do so for long, his hands eventually bumping against the pitch-coated hull.

Its anchor remains lowered, so his way on is already established. He climbs the heavy chain, its links as wide as his palm, and slips onto the boat unnoticed.

The Cockerel, as he read from the gold lettering adorning its dark hull, is quiet for the most part. The majority of the boat’s crew is currently on shore, likely occupying the local town’s tavern. It is the best opportunity he has to ‘acquire’ the text before the ship leaves tomorrow.

After that… Only Lord Hermaeus Mora knows where the Cockerel will dock next.

Moving on quiet footsteps he passes a crewmate dozing with lanky arms crossed over his chest, feet propped up on a small stool. If the Dragonborn remains quiet, the Breton shouldn’t be a problem.

He scours the deck, finding nothing out of the ordinary, and heads on quiet steps into the hold.

Oddly, nothing beyond dangling hammocks and a few crates. The Dragonborn, wanting to be thorough, pops open every single one, finding only preserves and knick-knacks buried among the stuffing straw.

That left only the captain’s quarters.

Creeping back to the top deck, he tries the captain’s door and finds it locked. It had been only a matter of time before his luck ran out.

Regardless, he slips the lockpicks from a small pouch and begins work. The Dragonborn is rusty and manages to fumble the lock a few times. Eventually, he gets it, though not until after a close call with the man sleeping on deck’s stool slipping out from the Breton’s feet.

The man doesn’t wake.

The door swings open on well-oiled hinges, just adding to the overall opulence just oozing from within.

Rich fabrics and jewels drape and dangle from every surface, and there is an expensive perfume hanging in the air. Everything remains illuminated by freshly lit candles.

_It is no wonder the captain could so easily deny his lord’s generous offer…_

Stepping into the extravagant space, he carefully clicks the door closed behind him. His eye spies a gold-laden chest. It reeks of his intended target, and he grows skeptical at the thus far ease of his to be robbery. He can’t see any sort of tripwire, any sort of laid spell on the floor, but the Dragonborn still approaches with caution.

His fingers find the lock, its metal inlaid with more gold. For some reason he doesn’t think much of the sea monster embossed on its back - the eyes and crab claws don’t seem out of place. He picks the lock with the same ease as the first and works the lid open.

There is a sudden shimmer and he’s too slow to avoid the enchantment evoked. His limbs are paralyzed and fall leaden at his sides. It is then that he notices the footsteps and the slow condescending clap.

His eye darts to his sudden visitor. It’s the ship’s captain, having returned from the brothel Rowan had followed him to earlier. From the bulk between his legs, it seems the visit had not been… fulfilling. His master had warned him should he fail and he swallows heavily, dreading what fate lay in store. He struggles against the spell, but it holds him too tightly. All to the amusement of the black orc… horizontal pupils taking in his crouched posture. The continued motif of golden tendrils are skillfully stitched into his heavy coat, and black iron filigree decorates his gold belt. The Dragonborn is distinctly reminded of...

The apparent sea captain chuckles, thick fingers curling around the brim of his dark-green hat as he removes it from his head. His ornate jacket has been tossed aside, revealing a large chiseled chest and wide shoulders. “I would have thought my Champion could have seen through my ruse earlier than this.”

The Dragonborn’s struggles against the paralyzing spell cease completely. His fight has left. He can only feel the shame painting his face rouge.

The orc captain-, nay, his master, steps closer with slow purposeful strides. His dark fingers catch the Dragonborn’s chin and direct his sapphire eye upward.

“I might have to… punish this oversight…”

 _Please,_ his mind begs. It has been far too long. He has been starving himself of touch. Denying the women and men that flock to him. There is only one in his heart. One he has pledged himself completely to. An unattainable demon of knowledge.

Those bewitching eyes of molten gold catch him, trap him, as a smirk spreads out across his inhumanely handsome features. He’s dragged backward and onto the captain’s bed.

He falls into the thick mattress, his body still under Lord Hermaeus Mora’s spell, and not listening to him at all. His Master considers him laying there, chest rhythmically rising and falling. He’s still soaking wet, his leathers clinging tightly to him.

“Let me help you out of those damp clothes…” Tendrils peel from the shadows cast by the bed’s fabric canopy. They slither towards him and work the buckles open. His armor is stripped away to leave him in just his soaking undershirt. Its white fabric is plastered to his body, showing off every curve of muscle. His nipples are embarrassingly perky, but it hardly deters the tendrils that are circling him. They slip under his shirt, to look like throbbing veins winding around his body.

The Dragonborn’s face heats further. He can only imagine how lewd he looks.

Fortunately, it doesn’t last long. For all his Master’s boundless power, he is also very impatient. The Dragonborn’s shirt is ripped from his body, the flurry of it, drawing a short gasp from his plush lips.

“M-Master…?” he mewls weakly, as if he had some say in Lord Hermaeus Mora’s desires.

His master ignores him, to run large hands over the Dragonborn’s inner thighs and coax his legs wider. Those same massive digits massage over his crotch and he can’t help wondering what they’d feel like spreading him open.

All he can do is wet his lips with his tongue. He’s hungry, but his master has yet to release the spell over him. “Master…?” he tries again.

This time his lord takes notice or decides to show he took notice. His bewitching smile grows wider, revealing more of his orcish tusks.

A single finger tugs at the hem of his pants. Lord Hermaeus Mora is slow. Purposefully so. If the Dragonborn could move, he would. He’d strip down to nothing if that’s what his master desired. Shed his clothes, and spread himself. But, that’s not how his master likes things. Lord Hermaeus Mora wants the resistance. The shyness. It makes the meal that much sweeter. For that is what this is. What it always has been, regretfully. He is his master’s tool. A thing to explore the hidden knowledge of flesh. His body molded through his predestined fate. To be the perfect specimen for which his master can learn everything about.

The Dragonborn is finally revealed to his lord, his hot cock springing forth from its confining prison of cloth and leather laces. He bites his lip, catching it between his blunt teeth. He briefly imagines what it would be like to kiss his master, his own teeth inadequately human.

His master doesn’t leave his mouth empty for long. A tendril finds it. The oily black is as slick as it looks, and it wriggles deep into the back of his throat. He chokes, but only for a fleeting moment as Lord Hermaeus Mora gives him time to adjust.

“Suck,” his lord commands.

He isn’t in a good place to disagree, not that he would. He tries his best, hollowing his cheeks and relaxing his throat to allow his master to push deeper still. His lips stretch with Lord Hermaeus’ continued girth and he wonders when he should make breathing an issue. The Dragonborn feels himself growing faint as his master continues to fuck his throat. His jaw hurts, but he doesn’t want to disappoint.

_He… He wants…_

Lord Hermaeus Mora retracts his tendril as a hand catches the Dragonborn’s chin. “Can’t have you passing out now… Hmmm…?”

He nods slowly, the spell having faded, and earns a chuckle as a trail of drool works its way down his chin.

A separate, broad hand works its way down his chest. It stops at an exposed nipple. To tweak and pinch its tip. A shudder works up his spine at the attention, and a dark thumb works into his mouth.

Unbidden, he sucks it diligently.

“So eager to please…”

The thumb retracts with a pop, and finally, Lord Hermaeus Mora takes notice of his unattended member, so wantonly hard already.

“This is supposed to be a punishment… but, I suppose it’s only fair if I return the favor.”

A tendril works around his cock, to circle and engulf it in cold, shiny black. It works to massage his length. Squeezing, rolling in a way that would be impossible otherwise. His back arches, and his legs kick. He clutched desperate to the silk sheets beneath them as if it would give him some sort of support against his master’s skill.

He’s so preoccupied he doesn’t realize his hips are being lifted until his ankles are resting on Lord Hermaeus Mora’s broad shoulders. There is a slight stretch, and the Dragonborn recognizes it as his master beginning to work him open. One finger. Two fingers. He takes his master easily to the knuckle, and he knows this pleases his lord.

He is rewarded with more skillful touches up and down his cock.

“Such a wanting hole…” His master adds a third, gloriously thick finger. The oil he had already prepared himself with, gushing out around the growing mass of digits. The Dragonborn wants more, needs more. The stretch is addicting. “How am I to possibly satisfy…”

The Dragonborn moans pathetically as his master works those fingers in and out. In and out. But, it's not enough. He wants his master and the thick cock that is straining the silken fabric of what still remains of the sea captain’s guise.

His master notices his wandering eye and lets out a bark of a laugh. “Greedy,” chides Lord Hermaeus Mora. The fingers leave his fluttering hole, trailing more oil as he wipes them off against the inside of the Dragonborn’s thigh.

His hole feels, suddenly, so very empty. He wants to be full again. Stuffed even. A mewl escapes again, his fingers tightening into the sheets with his shame.

His whine is muted when he feels something new bump against his entrance. It is warm and feels far thicker than even four of his master’s fingers. He wets his lips in anticipation.

The push is slow, but it has to be. Despite his desperate need, his master is aware of how pathetically mortal he is, of how fragile his flesh is. He can feel the flesh stretch, just barely hitting the cusp of painful, and sliding further. Nothing he could have done would have prepared him for the full might of his master’s girthy cock.

Lord Hermaeus Mora whispers soothing words, easing the tears that form with soft strokes below his remaining eye.

He continues to take all of his lord. To sheath him completely. He can feel the bulge of it forming beneath his stomach, mashing against his insides. The Dragonborn is awed by the sight, but he dares not touch.

“Go on…” his master encourages. “I want to feel you…”

Tentatively, the Dragonborn reaches out to his extended stomach. He can feel his master’s massive cock, and it's strange to feel its power with both his fingers and with his insides. He can’t help massaging the mound, to knead his belly with his thumbs.

His master rumbles his approval and pulls back slightly.

The Dragonborn feels a tug as the mass slowly departs, only to more quickly slide back in. His whole body rocks with the motion, hands clenching to tight balls. The bed they are on rattles against the wall and a vase topples from a bedside table. It goes ignores as arousal sparks unhindered.

All he can do is bite his lip to stop the shameful sounds.

Lord Hermaeus Mora bends over him and steals his lips. He is surprisingly gentle with his sharp teeth, careful not to puncture the rosy flesh as he nibbles. His master’s hot tongue is dominating as it pushes its way into his mouth, filling his mouth as it brushes up against his tongue.

He greets the serpentine appendage with his own, his in a losing fight over dominance. The Dragonborn doesn’t care. He invites it even, sucking it gently and grazing his teeth against its surface.

His lord smirks against his lips as he returns the same. Those razor teeth graze his tongue, and he can taste just the barest hint of blood.

“Master…” he murmurs against his master’s lips. The word more a call of worship for his lord. “Master…”

Still riding Lord Hermaeus Mora’s giant girth, he is shuffled to his master’s lap, strong arms wrapping around him possessively. “My cute little champion…”

Broad hands move to his hips to bounce him on Lord Hermaeus Mora’s cock. The Dragonborn gasps and almost chokes on his tongue in the process. Only his master can make him feel so small, so petite, despite his large, nordic stature. He loves every minute of it. Every second he is here, and in the arms of his one and only. Greedily he returns the embrace, to clutch and hold his lord tightly.

His lord drives impossibly deeper into his core, striking his prostate with uncanny accuracy. The Dragonborn writhes in pure ecstasy, his mind whites and he shouts loudly with each thrusting bounce and skillful roll of hips, “Master! Master!”

A hand catches his damp hair and yanks it back to bare his throat. He feels his master’s tusks on the sensitive skin, the grazing of sharp fangs. It is an immensely intimate act, one that proves his trust.

His master breathes in deep to catch the scent of his pleasure.

“This scent is all for me…” A wet tongue laps a possessive stripe up the Dragonborn’s neck. “If I ever catch this scent on another, I’ll kill them. Maybe even while they are still inside of you…” Lord Hermaeus Mora adds with a dark chuckle.

The Dragonborn would never even entertain such an idea, but how his master growls his threat… it sends a thrill up his spine.

“Oh…? You would like that, you dirty thing, wouldn’t you…?” There was a sudden wicked gleam in his golden eyes. “Maybe I should play up my role a bit more… Let my sailors have their way with the little thief their captain found… and then maybe… a sea monster rises from the depths to devour all who dared touch you. Who dared to even look at you. The captain mysteriously vanished…” Those firm hands grip his hips harder, hard enough that he is sure there are going to be bruises later. Not that he cares. The Dragonborn invites the marks, the brands that show he belongs to his master. “And, then that sea monster captures the little thief, fucks that little thief till he’s begging for mercy… But there remains no one to save him. He remains…” Lord Hermaeus Mora begins to pick up his pace, earning short gasps and moans from the Dragonborn still riding him. “At the beast’s whims… Completely.”

There is no doubt in the Dragonborn’s mind who the sea monster would be - his master did love his roleplay, even if that meant becoming something truly blood-curdling.

“What a tale that would be for my archive. What do you think, my little thief?”

It was hard to think at all. _How could he, with his master bouncing him on his enormous cock, his tendrils simultaneously stroking him harder and harder?_ The Dragonborn’s nails dig small crescent’s into his lord’s wide back as he clings desperately.

“Master!”

He comes hard. Messily. His cock pumps copious swaths of white over his master’s oily grip, spilling over Lord Hermaeus Mora’s hold on him and staining the dark-green sheets below.

But, his master isn’t quite done with him yet. His master still needed his own release.

The Dragonborn can’t help the small whine in the back of his throat. He is far too sensitive to continue for much longer.

“Not yet…” His lord sounds apologetic as he continues to fuck him far into oversensitivity.

The sensations are nearing painful, but his lord only continues to get harder, the mass inside him getting impossibly larger. Without thinking, his teeth sunk uselessly into his master’s shoulder, but it almost seems like what his master needed.

Lord Hermaeus Mora spends himself. Hot and sticky inside of him. The Dragonborn can feel his insides being painted, the excess spilling out of him as his master pulls free, cock finally lax.

“My good little thief,” his master whispers almost fondly as the Dragonborn falls limp and is set to rest against the pillows. “My champion…” his master whispers smoothing a thumb over his cheek as his eyes fluttered shut. “Sleep well.”


End file.
